Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ethiopia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Niagra to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monks,
cv313,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yusef Lateef,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Wells,
The Moleskins,
Joe Smooth,
Ituana,
Trumans Water,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric B and Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June of 44,
Bootsy Collins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Flesh Eaters,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul II Soul,
Mars,
Mad Mike,
Reagan Youth,
The Buckinghams,
Ash Ra Tempel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
Mandrill,
Scion,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
Wasted Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.